Why I am not a patriot

In this week of the Fourth of July, Independence Day here in the U.S., I've been thinking a lot about patriotism and nationalism, allegiance and obligation, freedom and justice.

As someone with dual citizenship (U.S. and Australia), I have never been able to get fully on board with the flag-waving, red-white-and-blue-wearing, if-you're-not-with-us-you're-against-us mindset about the country of my birth. I love fireworks - regardless of the occasion - and I enjoy apple pie, but I do not say the pledge of allegiance. My allegiance is with God, as I have known God to be revealed in Jesus the Christ, who stood for compassion and justice, love and response-ability to those in need. I certainly appreciate the gifts of a democratic government, but I do not believe it is ordained by God any more than the monarchies of Europe. And don't get me started on capitalism.

I have recently begun to examine my willingness to sing the American national anthem, "The Star-Spangled Banner." Previously I felt this was more acceptable to my conscience than pledging allegiance, but a musing from Dean McIntyre of the General Board of Discipleship has made me reconsider: "It is not a hymn or sacred song — it is a recounting through music of a military battle." As someone who abhors war and believes that the greatest justice and peace can be accomplished through nonviolent means, I am somewhat astonished that I never reflected on the battle perspective of the anthem before.

In contrast, Australia's national anthem, "Advance Australia Fair," focuses on the courage and optimism of the people and the natural resources of the land (but check out the original lyrics for some rampant imperialism and echoes of "Manifest Destiny"). I guess any time we (Euro-mutt immigrants' descendants) start to wax poetic about the places we've come to reside in, we have trouble remembering that the land is all part of God's creation, and was originally inhabited by others with customs and cultures indigenous to what we think of as "our" part of the world.

My personal preference, for honoring one's native land without forgetting that God is God of the whole world, is "This Is My Song," set to the tune Finlandia. Consider verse 1:

This is my song, O God of all the nations,
A song of peace for lands afar and mine.
This is my home, the country where my heart is
Here are my hopes, my dreams, my sacred shrine.
But other hearts in other lands are beating,
With hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.

When we remember that all people on earth are God's children, it becomes harder to justify "collateral damage" and civilian casualties - or even, if we are really convicted of God's love for all humanity, to justify the vast sums we spend on building bigger bombs and tanks to destroy other countries' armies.

Many argue that "freedom isn't free," and that we would not have the privileges of freedom and democracy in this country today without the sacrifices that soldiers have made over the years. There is some truth to this, but I think it fails to see the larger picture. My problem is not with people who believe something so strongly they are willing to live and die for it; I have a problem with people who believe so passionately and blindly that they are willing to kill others for the cause.

Jim Winkler, of the UMC General Board of Church and Society, has written a thoughtful article on the relationship between violence and freedom. I greatly appreciate his countercultural perspective that it is possible to win liberty and democracy without a bloody revolutionary war.

So what did I do on the 4th of July this year? Not much. I helped make an apple pie. I watched Good Night, and Good Luck on video. And I prayed that people around the world might know liberty, justice, and peace - and that we might stop seeing violence and war as the solution to every problem we face.